Bottled Bluegrass by Jennifer Bramseth

Author:Jennifer Bramseth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Woodford Press

Walking away from music?

When the fuck had he ever done that?

The whole music industry might have kicked him to the curb, but Mack knew that he most certainly hadn’t walked away from music.

Mack held the letter in his hand and shook his head. Webb’s words had made a lot of sense until Mack had gotten to that last sentence.

Had his agent ever had half a clue as to what made Mack tick? All that begging to do a Bluegrass album had fallen on deaf ears. To Mack, it looked like Webb finally realized his mistake and was hoping to cash in on Mack’s passion.

He threw the letter on top of the table and checked the other mail. A few bills, junk mail, but then there was a piece that made Mack’s stomach turn. A certified letter. The kind of thing you get when you’re getting sued, or about to get sued.

He turned it over and saw that his grandfather had signed for it, even though Mack had told Albert repeatedly not to do that. Mack ripped it open, his heart beating fast and anger beginning to burn in his gut.

The boilerplate letter stated in threatening all caps at the top FINAL NOTICE.

Damn. He thought he’d paid this bill months ago. He couldn’t remember getting any other notices—had Albert hidden them, forgotten them? Mack read the letter, knowing he couldn’t pay the balance, which had been jacked up with a ton of fees and interest.

The debt stemmed from a car he’d bought in Nashville but had returned rather than have the thing repossessed just before he’d left town. But that hadn’t prevented the car company from coming after him for what they claimed they were owed. The amount he allegedly owed had ballooned to twice what he remembered.

He put the notice on the table next to the letter from Webb and felt sick. Maybe he would have to contact Webb.

Not because he had a strong urge to catch up on old times and rebuild bridges.

But because Mack needed money. Again.

His new job at the distillery would help, but this bill was big. Mack picked up the letter from Webb, replaced it in the envelope and took it, along with the notice, to his room and put it on his dresser.

“Mack, the sheriff’s here,” Albert announced as Mack left his room.

Mack went to the front door of the house where Albert was already standing and ready to go outside.

“You stay in here, Pa,” Mack admonished. “Too damned hot out there today for you.”

“I ain’t sick,” Albert grumbled, “and I want to talk to that Sheriff Sammons. I voted for the man and want to shake his hand.”

Mack promised him he’d get that chance, made him stay inside, and went to greet Kyle as the sheriff exited his cruiser.

“Show me the spot,” Kyle said.

Mack did so, and Kyle examined the hole, questioned Mack, and scouted the general vicinity.

“That farm over there,” Kyle said, pointing to the land across the road, “you know of any problems over there with hunters, poachers?”

“Nope, and not on our land, for that matter.

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